My Own Prison
by Almach
Summary: Sirius in Azkaban contemplating his life. Songfic.


Disclaimer: None of this is mine. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowlings and "My Last Prison" is Creed's.

My Last Prison_  
_

_A court is in session, a verdict is in_

_No appeal on the docket today_

_Just my own sin_

I don't know how long I've been here, how long I have been living with my sins, my guilt. Even though I wasn't the one who betrayed them, it's like I did. If I hadn't convinced James to switch to Peter, they would still be alive and I would not be here, innocent of that which I've been convicted, thrown into a cell with no trial, no appeal. Just left here to remind myself of the sins I've committed.

_The walls are cold and pale_

_The cage made of steel_

The inside of this cell is all I've seen for ages. This is all I know, except the memories that the Dementors bring up, everything that I want to suppress, forget forever.

_Screams fill the room_

_Alone I drop and kneel_

_Silence now the sound_

_My breath the only motion around_

Everyone screams in the end. The endless reliving of everything you've thought you'd forgotten, all the bad memories. The Dementors suck all the happiness from you until you're left a former shell of yourself. I know this, everything that I want to forget I've been forced to relive in excruciating detail, but they haven't taken my mind. I can't let them. The thought of my innocence is the only thing that keeps me sane, the only thing that lets me not be like the rest. After the screams, there is silence and I am left alone with memories swarming through my mind.

_Demons cluttering around_

_My face showing no emotion_

_Shackled by my sentence_

_Expecting no return_

_Here there is no penance_

_My skin begins to burn_

Everyone has their own personal demons. I guess you can say that I have more than most. Most people have a loving, supportive family. I had nothing of the sort. I was the black sheep of the family. My mother despised me, my father loathed me, and my younger brother ignored and detested me. He was always the favorite. I was never like them, never believed that I was better because I was a pureblood. Getting sorted into Gryffindor was the last straw. I was overlooked and abused. At fifteen, I finally got out, ran away from home, left and never looked back. She blasted me from the tapestry, disowned me, not like I cared. All I ever knew from that house was hatred and neglect, so I was happy to finally be free from that nightmare.

_(And I said oh) So I held my head up high_

_Hiding hate that burns inside_

_Which only fuels their selfish pride_

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. . .That's a lie. My family may be ancient, but they are far from noble. Every negative quality is found somewhere in my family. Sure, there have been some good ones, like Uncle Alphard and Andromeda and me, but that family is evil down to the core. Their selfish pride in the purity of the line disgusts me. I can never be rid of them. Fifteen years was more than enough, but no matter how far and how fast I run, I can never be free.

_(And I said oh) We're all held captive_

_Out from the sun_

_A sun that shines on only some_

_We the meek are all in one_

I am held captive, here in my memories. Memories I wish I could forget, but for as long as I am here, I can never escape them. The sun doesn't shine on me. It never has. It never can. I was never pure enough or good enough for it to. James was, and Lily, and Remus. Peter and I belong in the dark. Even though I never committed the crimes for which I was convicted, and Peter betrayed his best friends, we belong together. I can never escape my family and I can never escape the fact that I was equally guilty in the death of the Potters.

_I hear a thunder in the distance_

_See a vision of a cross_

_I feel the pain that was given_

_On that sad day of loss_

I can still remember that day as if it were yesterday. I remember the thunder and the lightning and the torrential rain. I remember the overwhelming sense of cold, the sense of dread I had been carrying with me that whole day. I could sense deep within my bones that something was wrong. I remember a frantic ride to Peter's, the sense of foreboding when I came upon his dark and empty apartment. I remember the bone-chillingly cold journey to the Potters', somehow knowing that I would never make it in time. I remember the numbness I felt when I saw the destroyed house. I remember that I couldn't feel a thing, like it wasn't me. I remember the overwhelming feeling of loss when I gazed down at my best friend, no, my _brother_'s body. I remember staring down at Lily, who had died to save her son. I remember Harry, crying for a mother who would never hold him again. I was incapable of feeling. I couldn't even cry. I remember the next morning, how the sky still seemed to be weeping for the Potters. I still remember the hate that coursed through my veins, the revenge that I so desperately wanted. I remember a street in Muggle London. I remember Peter, short, fat, inept Peter, the rat who pulled off the greatest subterfuge ever. I remember the maniacal and triumphant grin on his face in the split second before he blew up the street behind him and turned into a rat, framing me for the murders of thirteen people. I remember that all I could do was laugh, laugh because little Peter Pettigrew had finally pulled one over me, laugh because if I gave into my grief, I would never be able to stop, laugh because that was the day my world came tumbling down.

_A lion roars in the darkness_

_Only he holds the key_

_A light to free me from my burden_

_And grant me life eternally_

I always thought that no matter what happened in life, the Marauders would be together forever. I thought that nothing could ever tear us apart. I thought that the bonds of friendship and brotherhood would always prevail. How wrong I was. How so very wrong. Life happened. I never believed that one of us would turn to Voldemort, would join the darkness, would betray their best friends. I wish that it were all different, but it can never be made right. Never.

_Should have been dead_

_On a Sunday morning_

_Banging my head_

_No time for mourning_

_Ain't got no time_

It should have been me, not James, never James. He was the one with the family. The one with everything to live for. I was the reckless one, taking all the risks, the one running from all the demons in his past, the one no one would miss. If I could do it all again, I never would have suggested the change to Peter, but people always say that hindsight is 20/20.

_(And I said oh) So I held my head up high_

_Hiding hate that burns inside_

_Which only fuels their selfish pride_

Life is never fair. Those who died should have lived, those who lived should have died. In a perfect world, that would have been. But the world is not perfect. It can't be. Hate is all I can summon for my former friend. The thought of revenge for the deaths of those innocent is all that keeps me alive, all that keeps me going.

_(And I said oh) We're all held captive_

_Out from the sun_

_A sun that shines on only some_

_We the meek are all in one_

I haven't seen the sun in years. I don't deserve to, I suppose. The dark is a refuge, a place for the people like me, forsaken by everyone who ever knew them.

_I cry out to God_

_Seeking only his decision_

_Gabriel stands and confirms_

_I've created my own prison_

_I cry out to God_

_Seeking only his decision_

_Gabriel stands and confirms_

_I've created my own prison_

I never believed in God. He was just never real to me. I was never one of those people who thought that God could solve all my problems. It just seemed like a cop-out, a way to get out of responsibility. Your actions are yours alone and if you don't claim them, then I'm sorry that you can't find the courage to face the consequences. If there is a God, well, he's definitely no friend of mine.

_(And I said oh) So I held my head up high_

_Hiding hate that burns inside_

_Which only fuels their selfish pride_

_(And I said oh) We're all held captive_

_Out from the sun_

_A sun that shines on only some_

_We the meek are all in one_

It should have been different. James should not have died, I should not be in Azkaban, Peter should not have gone looking for friends in all the wrong places, and Remus should not be alone. We used to spend hours talking about the future, how we would always be friends forever, how nothing could ever break the Marauders apart. How naïve, how innocent, how stupid we all were. Sometimes, I wish I could be that young, that hopeful, that trusting again.

_(And I said oh) So I held my head up high_

_Hiding hate that burns inside_

_Which only fuels their selfish pride_

_(And I said oh) We're all held captive_

_Out from the sun_

_A sun that shines on only some_

_We the meek are all in one_

But I can never be. Azkaban has changed me. I am no longer that carefree man I once was. I guess you could call me jaded. Life has dealt me a tough hand but it only makes you stronger, I suppose. I will never be who I was. People always say that the teenage years are the best days of your life. It was definitely true for me. Before all the fear, before all the death, before all the loss and pain, before the betrayal that struck me to my very soul.

_Should've been dead on a Sunday morning_

_Banging my head_

_No time for mourning_

_Ain't got no time _

Betrayal. Something I thought could never happen to me, never happen to us. I was so sure of myself, so sure of my friends that I never even conceived the notion. Sometimes life comes and bites you in the ass. That was what happened to me. Life is never what you want, it does its own thing. Pain, sorrow, betrayal, revenge, hatred, bitterness. That's all I'm left with now.


End file.
